They wouldn’t listen.
Those damned political cowards.
The world needed to know: they were wrong.
He knew the correct answer.
First he had written a letter to the newspaper.
Well, perhaps the mayor didn’t always read the full newspaper. He was a busy man, after all. A copy of the letter, for the mayor’s convenience, was tacked to the office door.
Phone calls to his local MP’s, emails to the MPP’s, hundreds of snail-mail entreaties.
Listen! He screamed. I know the answer!
But they still wouldn’t listen.
Furious, he started an online petition, called friends, made posters, publicized. If they wouldn’t listen, he would come to them, with a demonstration, a mass of people.
He waited, to greet his followers. Gleefully waited behind balcony doors, wondering at the bliss of being listened to.
He swung open the doors, behind which were a multitude of listeners, people who saw and understood him, who thought what he had to say was important.
And was greeted by silence.
No person had come.